Pain Inflicted
by TheConjuringMind
Summary: He just couldn't shake it. It was eating him alive, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. Even though the pain inflicted on himself helped distract him for a few moments, in the long run; nothing worked. EricXTris.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I Don't Own Divergent.**

* * *

He just couldn't shake it.

It was eating him _alive_ , but there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He tried distancing himself from her.

He tried ignoring her.

Avoiding eye-contact.

He'd walked out of a room completely, and into another.

He'd taken the stairs to the second or third level above his room, just so he could miss her on her way to her own room which happened to be on the same level.

But no matter what he _did_.

No matter how hard he _tried_.

He couldn't rid himself of the sickly odd feeling festering inside him.

The strange _'pang'_ or _'tug'_ he felt in his hollow chest whenever his gaze caught hers...

And to think that it started out as a stray thought.

A _meaningless_ , stray thought.

And then grew into something far out of his control and beyond his comprehension.

It made him sick to think that he could possibly care for someone like he _knew_ he cared for her, but here he was again; _caring_.

Something he didn't even think he was capable of doing anymore.

After he'd joined Dauntless, he thought all emotions involving love had been destroyed, or at least beaten into submission. And he'd done everything in his power to try to crush the vexing feeling he had for her.

He'd spent many long, sleepless nights in the vacant training room while all the other Dauntless members were asleep.

He'd pounded work-out bags until his fists bled, tossed throwing knives until his arms ached, and did as many sit-ups as he could until his abs burned.

Even though the pain inflicted on himself helped distract him for a few moments, in the long run;

 _Nothing worked._

Soon enough he actually found himself singling her out when training was in session.

He'd pick on her, make her feel small - which in all truth, she was. He was just pointing out the fact - push her to her limits, just to see how long she would last - or with any luck, get her kicked out of Dauntless so he wouldn't be tortured with her presence any longer - and just straight out _razz_ her to get some sort of reaction out of her.

 _Nix that_.

 _Any_ reaction out of her.

It made him sick to think of how many times he'd gone out of his own way to try to talk to her (despite the conflicting feelings he had inside himself), and she didn't even want to give him the time of _day_.

Though honestly, why _would_ she?

Every time he caught her eye, she flinched.

Every time he brushed past her when he walked by, she gasped.

Why would she want to socialize with him if she thought - _knew_ \- he had it out for her?

He knew _he_ wouldn't want anything to do with someone who had it out for him.

 _And-_

 _Dang, it!_

Now he _knew_ ; all the messed up, confusing thoughts she gave him, all the trouble she unknowingly left him with, all the pain he felt;

It was all _self-inflicted_.

 _She_ had nothing to do with him liking her.

She hadn't thrown herself at him, or teased him with herself.

It was all his _own_ doing.

His own thoughts, his own - _dare he say it_ \- _'feelings'_ he felt for her.

It was all _him_.

And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Truth be told, he didn't even think he _could_ at this point.

 _And maybe it was for the best..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Even though I've previously stated on my profile page that I no longer write multi-chapter stories (unless they are already complete, that is), due to popular demand I decided to write two companion pieces to this story (this chapter being one of the two). The next chapter will be the last piece.**

 **I hope you enjoy reading it.**

 **Disclaimer: I Don't Own Divergent.**

* * *

(Tris's POV)

She couldn't help it.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop thinking about it.

She couldn't understand it.

Nothing made _any_ sense.

One minute he _hated_ her.

The next, he actually acted as if he _wanted_ to be around her.

Like his constant harassing and taunting was really some sick, desperate way of getting her attention.

And he didn't seem to care whether it was positive attention or not.

Just about _any_ attention would suffice.

Whether it was a flinch, a gulp, or something as irritating and simple as getting her breath to hitch in her throat, he definitely seemed to gain pleasure in making her uncomfortable.

And just that _alone_ was enough to disturb her.

Then things got _worse_.

It started out with little things.

Meaningless things.

Things like; singling her out during training, and "randomly" picking _her_ out of all the other Dauntless trainees in the group to help him 'demonstrate' new fighting techniques, to stalking her on her way to her room (which she later found out was directly across from his, although the fact didn't make him following her any less creepy).

Then things got _weird_.

Instead of singling her out to humiliate her in front of the entire face of Dauntless, he started singling her out to _help_ her work on her techniques.

Instead of glaring at her and reprimanding her for being clumsy enough to lose her balance and fall during sparring, he'd give her an almost sympathetic look and tell her to be more _'_ careful _'_.

And if _that_ wasn't confusing enough, it certainly didn't help whenever he'd steal a glance her way either.

Scanning her features, and observing her looking his way.

It was almost like he was gauging her reaction to his presence.

Wondering if she saw something he didn't want to admit, or something that perhaps was never there in the first place.

Many nights she kept herself up thinking about it...

Wondering.. _._

Could it be _possible?_

Was there a crack in his 'bad guy' facade?

Did something else lie behind the front he put on?

She didn't know.

But if she were going to stay up all night pondering those thoughts, then she figured she may as well get a good work-out out of it.

So she ran.

Through the Dauntless halls, past the dorms and rooms.

Around the building.

Past the training room.

And she wouldn't stop until her legs _hurt_.

Until her heart _pounded_ like a thousand drums, and she nearly suffocated herself from the lack of air.

Not until her limbs felt _numb_ , and her body became weightless, and her feet almost seemed to lift off the ground, and her mind became more clear, her thoughts less muddled.

Every time she'd run past the empty training room, she'd spot him.

Either pounding a work-out bag, tossing knives, or doing more sit ups than she could keep count.

As long as she ran past, she saw him.

But he never saw her.

Or, if he did, he never acknowledged her.

He seemed too focused.

Too lost in his own thoughts to pay much attention to anything aside from the bag he was beating, the knives he was tossing, or the excruciating pain he must have felt in his abs after how many sit ups he'd force his body to endure.

From time to time she'd wonder...

She'd stop thinking about her _own_ troubling thoughts and start focusing on what she thought could be troubling _his_.

Why was _he_ always staying up so late?

Did he have trouble sleeping too?

Were there too many thoughts swimming around in _his_ head as well?

Did he think of her?

Did he ever wonder what she thought of him?

Did it bug him whenever she brushed him off?

Did he ever expect her to seek him out like he'd purposefully sought out her?

Did he have - _dare she say it_ \- ' _feelings'_ for her?

Could it be that everything he did, he did for _her_ , and it was all in vain?

 _Maybe_ , she thought.

But what if she was wrong?

What if she was misreading everything?

What if he really was taunting her just for the sake of taunting her?

What if every _glance_ , every _word_ , every time he _seemingly_ followed her meant nothing?

She couldn't confront him about it.

 _No_ , she wasn't quite brave enough for that.

But what if...

 _No_.

The best thing she could possibly do, she decided, was just brush him off, and walk away.

That's what he expected of her right?

Why would she do any different?

It wasn't like she _felt_ anything for him...

 _Did she?_

She didn't feel anything when his hand accidentally brushed against hers when he passed by.

Or when he looked at her with those beautiful, piercing blue eyes.

She didn't feel anything when her name rolled off his tongue in one _perfect_ , _crisp line_ , and he emphasized the _'s'_ in her name...

But if that were true, then why did her heart _skip_ a beat when he brushed past her?

Why did she feel so _light-headed_ whenever he caught her eye?

Why couldn't she get a _single_ word out whenever he talked to her?

And, worst of all, why did she even feel the _need_ to question herself on this matter?

 _No_ , she told herself.

 _Just stop._

And those thoughts left just as quickly as they came.

Why would _he,_ of all people, like _her_?

She was nothing _pretty_.

Nothing _special_.

Yet still...

She seemed to be good enough to catch his eye.

And he, good enough to catch hers.

Though they were so different from each other... and perhaps that's why they both found the other intriguing.

Opposites attract, they say.

Or in this case; _attack_...

Either way, at this point she didn't even think she could _stop_ herself from thinking about him.

And maybe, _just maybe_ , it was for the best...


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Thank you for your patience, forgive me the long absence. This chapter weaves in and out of both characters's point of views, so I hope it doesn't confuse you. My apologies if there are any typos.**

 **Disclaimer: I Don't Own Divergent.**

* * *

The day had started out like any other.

He'd had a mediocre day training the Dauntless wannabes, caught Tris's eye a couple of times, attempted having some sort of interaction with her, getting some sort of acknowledgment, and to the best of his knowledge failed to do so.

So here he was, just like yesterday and the day - heck, perhaps the last couple weeks - before, wasting his time in the training gym.

198.

199.

200.

He lied down on his back and exhaled.

His abs burned, his chest was sore, and he definitely pulled a muscle or two in his right arm from those throwing knives.

And if that wasn't bad enough, to top it all off his head wasn't any clearer than when he first started working out.

He'd thought that exhausting his body until it nearly shut down would eventually lead his mind to dropping the subject of Tris. He however, was sadly mistaken.

Although it seemed to work for a while - about _two_ _days_ to be honest - he quickly discovered that he'd developed a tolerence for all the pain he had inflicted on himself, and no longer found relief in one good work-out session.

Nope, by now he needed _three_ or _four_ good work-out sessions.

And even _that_ wasn't doing too well _now_.

As a matter of fact, now the late-night training sessions seemed to be taking its toll on him.

If it wasn't bad enough that Tris was on his brain all hours of the day, now he was starting to have freaking hallucinations of her too.

Every once in a while he'd think he'd spot her running around the training room, her brunette ponytail whipping behind her as she flew past him, and disappeared somewhere out of the corner of his eye.

It had to be his lack of sleep, he reasoned.

That was the only thing that made sense...

Right?

...

 _Dang it._

Now he _knew_ he was tripping over that broad.

Just then Tris, the alleged apparition, dashed into his peripherals. And being just as oblivious and clumsy as the real Tris, tripped right over him on the floor.

Or...was _he_ tripping over _her?_

"What the heck are you doing?" he accused, quickly shoving her off of him and getting to his feet when he realized how close her face was to his.

"Uh...running?" she said uncertainly.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean to interrupt-"

"Gah!" he clenched his abs and cringed in pain. She'd hit his stomach pretty hard, and he was already hurting to begin with.

He tried putting on a front to conceal just how bad the pain really was, but she saw right through him and was at his side in a second.

"Here, let me help you," she offered out of mere habit from being raised in her previous faction, though she could think of no logical reason that she'd want to help Eric, of all people.

"I'm fine," he grit his teeth. "Back off."

"No," she defied him, taking one of his arms and preparing herself for his weight. "You're hurt. Now let me take you to your room and get you some ice."

His first instinct was to resist her, but his body was so exhausted that he couldn't even put up a fight. So low and behold, she wound up walking his sorry butt all the way out of the training gym, and up the stairs to his room.

She tried helping him down onto a reading chair he had in the corner of his room (she wondered if he ever used it), but he at least had enough strength and pride to complete _that_ task on his own. It was embarrassing enough having her walk him like a newborn to his dorm (hopefully without any of the Dauntless recruits noticing, or his reputation would be ruined for good), but it would absolutely kill him if she had to sit him down like a child as well.

Any other day he would've told her to get lost, but for some strange reason he couldn't find it in himself to do so.

Having her care enough to want to help him (even if all she could do was minimal) kinda felt... _good_.

By now the pain in his torso had subsided, and he didn't even need help, yet still, he got the odd feeling to want to prolong her stay around him.

She brought him a pack of ice from the mini fridge he had, and handed it to him to cover his injury.

"Here," she said quietly, thinking full well that he wasn't enjoying the situation in the slightest.

He noticed a deep gash on her hand when it brushed against his, and was quick to acknowledge it.

"You're hand's bleeding," he stated plainly, holding onto it a second before she pulled it away from him.

"I must've cut it when I fell. I'm fine," she shrugged it off, slowly stepping away from him as she edged her way towards the door.

All of the sudden she felt uncomfortable. Why was _he_ concerned about _her_? As a matter of fact, why was _she_ concerned about _him_?

And darn it, what was going on here?!

She swiftly turned herself around and readied her hand to move the knob, stopping abruptly when the pain of her cut seeped in and caused her to 'hiss'.

"Wait," he commanded her. "Get back here, I'll get some salve and gauze." Not giving her a moment to reject his offer, he forced himself out of his seat, ice packet still pressed to his side in one hand, and headed to the med cabinet to retrieve a box full of bandages and ointments.

She reluctantly released her grip on the doorknob, and cautiously made her way to the counter where he had set the box.

"Give me your hand," he told her, offering one of his after he spread out the gauze.

She gave him a wary look.

This was all just too weird. _Eric_ offering to bandage up one of her wounds? She'd never have guessed that she'd see the day.

"I'm not going to bite," he assured her, and then muttered under his breath; "Not this time, anyway,"

Still, she relented, and before she knew it her hand was in his, and he was dabbing it with salve and wrapping it with gauze.

Eric absentmindedly noted how small her hand was compared to his, how soft it was even with the few calluses that she'd obtained from training, and how it fit perfectly in his rough one.

He didn't want to dwell on it though, because it was too absurd of a thought for any _guy_ to be thinking, so he made quick with his handiwork and dropped her palm the second he was finished wrapping it.

"There. Done." he said shortly, occupying himself with putting up the med box and returning it to its rightful place.

Tris stared at her newly-wrapped hand, and then back at Eric who stood awkwardly across from her.

"Thanks...?" she said uncertainly, for she wasn't sure if she was truly thanking him, or just asking if it was _okay_ to thank him. How was _she_ supposed to know what he did and didn't tolerate?

He said nothing in return, and opted instead to give her a quick, respectful nod. Saying 'you're welcome' wasn't really second nature to him. Heck, was 'welcome' even in his vocabulary? He didn't remember.

Soon enough they fell into a long, awkward silence, and it wasn't for quite some time that Tris bravely decided to break it.

"So..." she started, quickly catching his attention which had momentarily been diverted to the counter-top. "What were you doing in the training room?" she asked curiously.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise. He hadn't expected her to be _that_ blunt with the subject. Heck, he hadn't expected her to bring it up at all.

"What were _you_ doing?" he deflected, crossing his arms in front of his chest, and then wincing when the pain returned to his torso.

"I told you before," she stated, a surprising wave of confidence hitting her as she crossed her arms as well. "I was running."

"What for?" he shot back.

" _Exercise?_ " she said, raising a confused brow. What else did he want her to say? That she couldn't get any sleep because she was thinking about _him_ all day and night?

"Don't you think you're over-working yourself, _Stiff_? None of the other Dauntless recruits are up at this hour."

She tried her hardest to suppress a scoff.

"I can say the same about _you_ , Mr-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-to-start-an-intense-workout-for-no-reason!"

"Hey!" he interjected. "I've got my reasons, don't turn this around on me!"

"Turn _what_ around? Is there something I'm not catching?"

"Yeah, your time spent here is over, now get out!" he yelled, pointing her to the door.

"Why did you even bother caring for me if you were just going to go back to being a jerk?" she wondered aloud. "And better _yet_ , why did I bother caring for _you?_ " she brushed his shoulder as she passed him, and made her way to the door.

Eric groaned in frustration.

Dang it, why was she so difficult?

He clenched his fist and slammed it onto the counter, causing her to jump in surprise.

" _Wait_."

Tris obeyed and stayed frozen in place. Partly because of fear, and partly because of curiosity.

Eric stomped his way over to the door, and stood directly across from her, a look of determination on his face.

He exhaled in a huff, and did the one thing he'd been craving to do for the past couple weeks;

Without a word he swallowed his pride, grabbed hold of her face, and pressed his lips to hers.

What he felt during that long moment was nothing less of ecstasy, and it took everything he had to pull away from her a second later.

"What was that for?" she asked quietly, eyes wide and mind reeling.

He abruptly turned his head away from her, hiding the heat that began to rise in his cheeks.

Did he really just do that?

Sure, he'd been _wanting_ to all week, but now that he'd done it...

 _Dang it,_ why did he do that?

He cleared his throat before responding to her inquiry.

"Just something I had to get out of my system." he dismissed, turning his back to her.

He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, feigning disgust. When it fact, he couldn't have relished in the lingering kiss any more.

Tris was stuck in a trance-like state, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Uh..." he was at a real loss of words for a good five minutes, before he finally settled on;

"Get out." And swiftly opened his door, pushing her out into the hallway and slamming it in front of her.

He rested his head on the door's cold metal, closed his eyes and sighed.

 _How the heck was he going to deny his feelings for her now?_

Meanwhile, Tris stood in the hallway, shell-shocked.

Did that really just happen, she wondered. Was her mind playing tricks on her?

Her fingers gingerly made their way up to her lips.

As foreign as the feeling of his kiss was, did she actually _like_ it?

Her mind didn't know what to think, and she had no idea what course of action to take.

She lingered in the hallway for a good half hour before retreating to her room which was conveniently across from his.

She prepared her bed and settled herself in, but ended up lying awake until the crack of dawn.

 _Forget it,_ her mind told her.

That kiss meant _nothing_.

 _Forget it. Forget it. Forget it._

* * *

Come training time, Tris saw very little of Eric.

He stood off a ways from her on the opposite side of the given room, and hardly made himself known to any of the Dauntless trainees.

He didn't interject or add to any conversation during instructions. Didn't comment on her combat techniques or posture. Didn't stare or gawk, or even look her way when she tried to get his attention.

He practically ignored her all day.

And it was _killing_ her.

She tried to forget what happened yesterday - or last night - but couldn't.

She'd pushed that kiss to the farthest part of her mind, yet still it always managed to resurface.

Come the end of training she'd finally had enough, and decided to do something about it.

She'd noticed Eric break away from the group and head off down one of the halls.

She spotted him not too far away, back leaning against a concrete wall, and hands in his pockets.

"I can't stop thinking about it," she said, effectively breaking him out of his thoughts and making her presence known.

His eyes met hers, and he gave her a knowing look.

It didn't look like it was a good subject to breach.

"I've tried, okay? But every thought I have immediately goes back to that kiss."

"Forget it," he told her coldly, shifting his eyes to his boots. "It never happened."

 _Forget it_ , her mind echoes.

She'd been telling that to herself _all night_ and it still hadn't remedied it.

She _can't_ forget.

Because she doesn't _want_ to forget.

But how will she tell him when he is being so stubborn?

No words would convince him, she realized.

But one action would.

Using every ounce of bravery her body could muster, she took a few bold steps forward, and closed the distance between them, lips locking for a significantly longer time than before.

A small part of him wanted to push her away and humiliate her, but the rest of him wanted to pull her closer and never let her go.

He listened to the latter.

Without a moment's hesitation, he wrapped a hand around her and pulled her closer to him, his other hand caressing her cheek.

He'd fought the feelings he'd had for her for so long, that he couldn't possibly keep them at bay any longer.

They finally parted when they heard the sound of footsteps down the adjacent hall, and he rested his head on her shoulder to exhale.

He didn't want them to get caught by any of the recruits. Him being involved with one of the Dauntless trainees might be a conflict of interest, not to mention the fact that they'd probably think he'd gone soft.

"You wanna know why I was up late running?" she asked breathlessly.

He nodded for her to continue, although he couldn't care less about the answer.

"It was because I was thinking about you."

All of this time, he thought, all the pain he'd inflicted on himself, only to find out that the feelings he tried to suppress were requited?

Dang, that was some crap.


End file.
